


so we put it in a song

by kay_emm_gee



Category: The White Princess (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Christmas, F/M, Holidays, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: In which Henry discovers how much Lizzie loves Christmas and somehow acquires a little enthusiasm for the holiday himself.{ a continuation of my bandmates!AU }





	so we put it in a song

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Becky G & Lindsey Stirling’s Christmas C’mon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGdfH2yWYp0) (highly recommend listening, for the fic and for fun!). The minute I heard the violin notes, I knew I had to continue my band AU for these two. Also, because Henry would totally be a grumpy cat about the holidays until Lizzie showed him the true meaning of Christmas :)

Henry never really watched breakfast shows, but he always had them on while drinking his morning tea. It was a habit he had picked up from living with Jasper in his younger–and poorer–years. The man was surprisingly attached to the puff pieces that dominated such shows, but Henry was not. He preferred to get real news from papers, and later in the day, when he could actually remember what he was reading. Whatever he put on the telly in the morning was just for background noise. He rarely paid attention to this politician or that celebrity who was advertising a new charity or cooking a cutesy recipe with a show host simply for a bit of good press.

When he turned it on one morning three weeks before Christmas, however, Lizzie appeared on his screen and he couldn’t help but stare in shock. She was standing atop a small stage in the middle of the studio, which was all decked out in holiday decor. A polite smile was plastered on her face–her interview smile, he recognized from experience–as she listened to the host laugh along with the petite, young woman who he quickly recognized as her sister. Henry snorted in amused horror at realizing they were wearing matching outfits: Lizzie in white jeans and white sweater, her sister in a sweater dress of the same style. Cecily was all bubbly laughs and bright sparkles, while Lizzie simply looked cool and collected. They couldn’t be more opposite.

He had no idea why he was seeing his bandmate on a morning show, with her sister no less. As far as he knew, Lizzie did not talk with her family much. She flat out refused to talk to her mother, and as her sister was still signed to the family label, he had assumed they were also out of touch. And yet here they were, side by side, on his screen before nine o’clock in the morning.

_Bloody hell._

Still looking at the screen, he took a sip of his tea and immediately choked on it, as he hadn’t let it cool enough. He hastily set it down, almost spilling it, and then wiped his burning lips against his sleeve. Grumbling, he reached for the remote to turn off his main source of distraction when he heard the very familiar sound of Lizzie on the violin.

He hadn’t noticed the microphone stand and instruments behind them before, but now he couldn’t miss them.  _One of their holiday concert features_ , he soon realized. The camera was focused entirely on Lizzie, and with her violin held high on her shoulder, she was playing slow, sweet opening notes to some unknown tune. She was filling his  _entire_  telly screen, and his heart jumped when her eyes flicked up to look into the camera. They danced with amused anticipation, and her lips curved into a small, playful smile just as the focus widened and revealed Cecily stepping up to the microphone at the center of the small stage.

Immediately the tune picked up into some upbeat, cotton-candy pop melody, and Cecily’s bell-like voice filled his flat. She was a bit pitchy, in his opinion, but it was mellowed by the bright hum of Lizzie’s playing. While Cecily bounced and winked her way through the first verse, center of attention for both the camera and live audience, Lizzie remained steadily in the background. The expertly played violin notes were a forceful reminder that she was still there, however, and her sister hadn’t seemed to have forgotten her either, as she turned and sang directly to Lizzie during the first chorus.

If that didn’t startle Henry, the genuine smile spreading across Lizzie’s face certainly did. That grin was not her interview smile from before, nor the tight one she gave him before critiquing his lyrics or composition, or the mischievous one she flashed across the bar when she got bored with her new bandmates and wanted some other type of male company. This smile that she gave to her sister was genuine and fond, and Cecily’s returning one was just as bright and sentimental.

The two played off each other, and the small studio audience threw out a holler or two in response. Both their excitment and the crowd’s grew as they danced their way through the second verse and chorus round, until Lizzie took center stage again during the bridge. She played with a lightness he rarely saw in their practice. It almost made him wonder if he should give in to Jasper’s demands that they add a few lighter songs to their next album.

That thought–and Cecily’s singing turning acapella as the song moved into its last movements–jerked him back to the present. Henry frowned as the melody wound down and the applause heightened. As Lizzie finished off the song the way she had started, only a little softer and more melancholy this time, he reached for the remote. A smile was in the middle of forming on her bright face when he flicked the telly off.

“Enough of that,” he muttered under his breath. When he turned to his remaining tea, he found that it was now lukewarm, and that he was running very late. Hastily, he dumped the mug in the sink and hurried towards his door, irked that something as simple as a Christmas song had put him off his routine.

* * *

As he was heading to Jasper’s office, he heard a familiar, rich laugh echo down the hall through the barely open door. Lizzie was already at the studio, then. His steps slowed as he approached, and he hesitated before knocking. When he heard her speaking, he dropped his hand entirely and listened, even though he know he probably should not be lurking outside their meeting.

“Thank you again for understanding,” Lizzie said in an entirely sincere tone. “I know it’s not the usual image the band associates with, but my sister very much wanted me to do this with her.”

“I’m just surprised you two haven’t collaborated on more projects,” Jasper replied. “Especially when you were both at your mother’s label. A sister act sounds like an obvious act.”

Henry scoffed silently at the same time that Lizzie snorted. “That is precisely why we never record together. My mother believes in maintaining a diversified portfolio, so if one front fails she has others to rely on. Besides, if Cecily and I had to work together on a regular basis, we’d end up murdering each other. Christmas actually was one of the rare times growing up that we didn’t fight.”

“The spirit of the season?”

“More like a common goal: finding the Christmas presents that our parents stashed away.”

Jasper laughed, and Henry just knew Lizzie was smiling the smile he had seen on her face from the performance this morning.

“Your mother apparently compromised this time on your collaboration,” Jasper commented. Henry waited for Lizzie’s answer carefully, as he recognized the probing nature of his manager’s tone.

“She accepted it, yes,” Lizzie replied simply. A pause, and then she carefully continued, “or rather she had to, once she heard it on the radio.”

Henry’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. It did not shock him that Lizzie would go behind her mother’s back–especially not after signing with his label, which was a direct competitor. It was news to him, however, that her sister had gone along with the subterfuge.

“As I said, Cecily very much wanted to do this. My mother…she thinks newer Christmas songs are typically tasteless. A classical cover she could have been talked into, but a pop song?” Lizzie laughed, a little too forced to be believed. “But my sister is as stubborn as I am when it comes to music, and I was more than happy to help her with this particular project. I told her it was her Christmas present.”

“But your sister is happy at the label, generally?”

“I don’t know if my mother could let it go if you happened to steal away both of her daughters,” Lizzie teased. “Besides, like I said, I don’t think she’d be a good fit for the band’s image.”

“Maybe I want to diversify as well,” Jasper joked. Henry rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t put it past Jasper to come up with such an idea.

As Henry was deciding if his manager was indeed serious about the suggestion, he heard Lizzie and Jasper wrap up their conversation. He hurriedly pushed off the wall and strode down the hall. Once he was out of earshot, he leaned back again. Lizzie was laughing as she left Jasper’s office, coat slung over her arm. Though she was still wearing her outfit from this morning, her hair was in its usual messy bun with loose curls framing her face. Henry shifted against the wall and tugged at the collar of his sweater.

The movement caught her eye, and she gave him a half-smile, the one where he was never sure if she liked him or was mocking him.

“Henry,” Jasper said warmly. “Come in, come in.”

He passed her halfway down the hall, and he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Nice job this morning.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes, but her smile stayed the same.  “Thank you.”

Without thought, he grinned widely at her, and she looked away, cheeks flushing. She kept walking, steps getting faster. He just watched her go, and when he turned around, Jasper was staring at him with raised eyebrows and a knowing look.

“Stuff it,” Henry grumbled as he pushed into the office.

Jasper chuckled under his breath before closing the door behind them.

* * *

Henry soon learned that however nonchalant Lizzie appeared about Christmas from her conversation with Jasper, in truth she was very much committed to the holiday.

She never wore a jingle-bell jumper or anything of that sort, but he could hear the holiday music blasting from her headphones when she walked into the studio, and her earrings were either little christmas trees or snowflakes or some other winter-themed object. Her gifts to the studio staff were fancy Christmas cookies from some expensive place downtown. He ribbed her about that, why she had not made them from scratch. She simply rolled her eyes and archly replied that one could not be good at everything, and he should be glad her talents lay in music so as to save his band from complete unoriginality.

And the whole band noticed when she made the news for impromptu Christmas caroling at a local nursing home. Jasper joked that if she kept this ‘nice girl’ image up, he might have to manufacture a scandal to remind their fans that they were a rock band.

“I only went to visit my grandmother,” she muttered when the laughing had subsided. “I had no idea she’d told everyone her granddaughter was a singer. You try saying no to the elderly when they’re begging you to bring them some Christmas cheer.”

Despite her irritated tone, Henry knew she had not minded performing for them a bit. In the photos from the papers, she was wearing that damn smile again. It seemed only the holiday could bring out that unguarded side of Lizzie, and it baffled him. With his upbringing–in and out of foster homes–this time of year didn’t mean much to him. He hadn’t woken up to presents wrapped in bright, shiny paper under the Christmas tree, or had hot cocoa made for him on Christmas morning, or even spent his holidays with family. Of course once he had gone to live with Jasper in his teenage years, the man had tried to give him some type of holiday traditions, but by then the time of year was tainted. Back then, he did not care a bit that it was Christmas, though now, being older, seeing Lizzie’s joy at the holiday, Henry wished that he had something that made the season special to him.

* * *

Leaning on the counter in the sound booth, Henry stared warily at the small green box wrapped with red ribbon in front of him. He knew he should just unwrap it, but every time he tried, he heard Lizzie’s bright voice calling out  _Happy Christmas!_  as she had swept into practice with a bundle of similarly wrapped boxes under her arm. Each member of the band had gotten a gift. John and Edmund had opened theirs on the spot, and throughout practice they hadn’t stopped talking about how bloody perfect the gifts were for them. It shouldn’t have surprised him, with her enthusiasm for the holiday, that Lizzie would be an expert at gift-giving. And not only did it take him off guard, it also made him nervous what she would consider ‘perfect’ for him.

Finally, after blowing out an irritated sigh, he picked up the square box and ripped off the paper. Opening the lid, he lent more care to his movements after seeing what was inside. Henry drew the delicate ornament out of the box, trying to read the text written on the side of the shiny, red ball. He breathed in sharply when he recognized the date–that of his first gig playing at that small, grungy bar in Wales–and immediately he spun the ornament around. On the front, a carefully rendered depiction of the bar’s sign was painted, and Henry was dumbfounded. Even his most dedicated fans didn’t always know where he had gotten his start, before even the band. She must have asked Jasper, he realized as he twisted the ornament this way and that, watching it shine even in the low light of the booth.

As he went to replace it back in the box, he noticed a note tucked in at the bottom. Taking it out, he recognized Lizzie’s large, looping cursive.

_My family always exchanged ornaments at Christmas, so I thought I’d extend the tradition on to you. You better put it high up on your tree within plain view…and if you don’t have a tree, then get one, Scrooge. Happy Christmas, Henry._

-  _Lizzie_  

He laughed under his breath before tucking the note in beside the ornament. As he put on his coat and grabbed the box, he glanced at the clock and wondered if the local floral shop by his place was still open.

* * *

Once he sent the photo, he could not help checking his phone every few minutes. Being Christmas Eve, Henry couldn’t expect Lizzie to answer right away, but he couldn’t help himself. Jasper started to notice and leaned forward on the couch.

“Expecting a call?”

Henry shook his head and shoved the phone away. Jasper pursed his lips in amusement and then took a sip of his drink. Henry took a sip of his, and then another large gulp when his phone began chiming out a ring. Jasper chuckled and turned up the telly.

“Don’t mind me. Answer it.”

Henry grimaced but reached for the phone anyways. His pulse lept when he saw Lizzie’s name on the screen, and he just stared as it kept ringing. He had expected a  _text_  in response, not a bloody phone call. Suddenly the telly was piercingly loud, and Henry scowled at Jasper, who was just grinning.

Muttering under his breath, Henry got up and walked into his bedroom as he pressed the accept button.

“That is a sad excuse for a Christmas tree,” Lizzie blurted without even a greeting. “It’s barely a foot tall!”

Henry smiled at the insult and closed the door behind him. “Best I could do on short notice.”

“Christmas comes the same time of year, Henry,” she complained over the sound of Christmas music in the background. “How much more notice could you have needed?”

“Well, as it was my first Christmas ornament, it never crossed my mind to prepare.”

There was a long pause on the other end, and he winced at the slip of honesty. Before he could play it off as a joke, she spoke again, softer.

“Then I’m glad I was the one to give you your first.” He tried to say he was glad too, but his throat closed up and he couldn’t get the words out. She started humming absently over the phone before continuing, “And now that you have one, you have no excuse next year to not get a nice tree. It had better be as tall as you.”

“I don’t think that would fit in my flat.”

“I guess you’ll just have to invite me over so I can disagree.”

“I guess so,” he responded with a low laugh.

They both were silent for a moment. When finally he was about to say something–what, he didn’t know–he heard someone call her name in the background.

“You should go,” he blurted at the same time was she groaned, “I have to go.”

They shared another small, light laugh, and then grew quiet once more.

“Happy Christmas, Lizzie.”

“Happy Christmas, Henry.”

Though he couldn’t see her, he was entirely sure she was smiling that holiday smile of hers–genuine, fond–and this time, it was for him.

As he hung up the call, he started smiling as well, wondering when he might see Lizzie smile like that, at him, in person.


End file.
